Splayed thereWith a nail sticking out of my handStuck in the groundI got to thinking of all the worse scrapes I'd been inGetting your ass out of the firePaying for it with my rank, my name, my other selfAnd in return, you turn an inward grinAs my shins wriggleThe sharpness rusts its wayInfecting the same hand I used for spankingWhich is a kind of karmaIf you but believeIn the backside of a bad jokeAnd that's meIn between the kicker and the punchThe line you signed me withAs you walkedHammer in handBlood pumping in a grin

The author would like to thank you for your continued support. Your review has been posted.